The Doctor's Xmas Eve
by ImprobableAbnormality
Summary: Set between "The Waters of Mars" and "The End of Time part one ". The Doctor reflects. R&R please


**Rating: **K+

**Warnings: **Spoilers for Waters of Mars, possibly The End of Time (part 1), Torchwood: Children of the Earth and a few older Doctor Who Episodes

**Summary: **The Doctor's spending Christmas Eve wallowing on Fujerao, but sitting among the orange snow, where do his thoughts wander?

**Disclaimer: **Doctor Who and Torchwood belong to the BBC. I own nothing but my plot line, or in this case, plotless drabble

**A/N: **This is set just before The End of Time (Part 1). I get bored and decided to write something from the Doctor's point of view about how he's feeling. Enjoy! (And yes I know its late... but its a busy time of the year.)

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**The Doctor's Christmas Eve**

It was the 24th of December and snow was falling thickly on the planet Fujerao in the Xeonen Galaxy. It wasn't any ordinary snow though. No this snow was coloured a subtle, pale orange, and fell from heavy, thick, black clouds that blotted out the triplet white suns. And stood next to a tall, wooden, blue police box, in the middle of this orange snow field was a lonely traveller. His eyes were directed at the sky as he assessed how much longer the snow would be falling for, before he shook his head, and turned to talk to the companion who wasn't there.

"I'd say about -" he cut himself off. He was doing it again; talking to thin air. His cheery smile dropped into a sad frown, and he leant against the side of his police box, patting it with his hand as he did.

"Just you and me old girl. The Doctor and his TARDIS, nothing to stop us now..." he muttered. A shiver ran through his body at that. He had only just managed to convince himself to stop dwelling upon what had happened on Mars. He had lost control and proclaimed himself 'The Time Lord Victorious'. How on Earth could he have sunk to that? He really needed someone to keep him in line, remind him that he had boundaries.

"Still, what can I do about that, eh? It's easier alone; no ageing friends, dying friends." he murmured under his breath. At those words his thoughts flitted to his good friend Captain Jack Harkness. Oh if only Jack wasn't tied to Torchwood, or rather hadn't been tied to Torchwood and had come with him back then, when he'd dropped him off in Cardiff. He wouldn't have to feel this endless lonliness.

"He had his duty, just like me. Defending the Earth. Can't argue with that, can I?" he muttered aloud, the echo of past words. Besides, he had no idea where Jack was now. The Captain seemed intent on remaining elusive. The Doctor couldn't blame him. After the fall of Ianto Jones, a fall that should not have happened for one so young, Jack had become ridden with grief, and killing Steven, his own grandson, had been a final blow to the Immortal's heart. The Doctor felt a pang of sympathy flutter in his chest for his friend, but sighed and pushed the Captain to the back of his thoughts for now. No use wallowing.

He pushed himself off the frame of the TARDIS and headed inside, removing his jacket and throwing it over the handrail before shaking a few flakes of orange from his hair. He stood there for a second, looking upon his empty ship before sighing and heading down to the TARDIS kitchen, that did exist, despite what many thought. He couldn't exactly let himself starve now. Entering the room, he immediately headed over to the kettle and flicked it on. Nothing beat a good cup of tea. As he waited for the water to heat, he leant against the unit, his head falling back.

"Good cup of tea! A super-heated infusion of free-radicals and tannin, just the thing for healing the synapses..." he whispered with a sad smile on his face. Oh how he wished for those days to return; the days of laughs and fun. The days where he could make a joke, and still have it in him to laugh at it. These days he felt more like breaking down in tears than anything else, but didn't because he knew if he started he'd never stop.

The hissing steam of the kettle broke him free of his thoughts. He blinked, and set to work making that cup of tea he needed before slowly heading up to the console room, warming his chilly hands on the exterior of the mug. For a moment he paused to ponder where to sit, and then decided upon opening the TARDIS doors and sitting just inside them, with his legs crossed, staring out at the pale orange plain that stretched as far as his eye could see. It was such a beautiful sight; a blank canvas of snow just waiting for the local inhabitants to venture out on it and create an artwork of footprints and snow angels. The Doctor smiled happily, savouring the moment of inner peace that he felt. He didn't get to feel it often anymore, but it relaxed him now. And so the Doctor stared at the snow, thinking of all the wonderous possibilities as he sipped at his tea.

Once the last few dregs had gone, he pushed himself to his feet, closing the doors and heading over to the console, resting the cup among a series of cables and what looked like the remanants of an old-fashioned camera. He let a smile appear on his face as he felt the contentness spread through out his body.

"Right then, time for a bit of travelling old girl before we visit that Ood Sigma! Allon-sy!" he grinned and with a turn of a handle, a pull of a lever and a whack with the hammer, the Doctor headed off among the stars, ready for a last few stops before visiting the Ood on Christmas Day. And boy was he going to enjoy himself!

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**A/N: **Well this was just a bit of a drabble really that kinda half-turned into a mini-story. Hope you enjoy it, and hope everyone had a great Christmas.


End file.
